If I may say so, your lizard looks limp.

I'm sorry I'm a bad blogger. I'll catch up on all your blogs over the next few days. <3

Sooooooo I'm back from the Jersey Shore! I'm pretty sure I gained 198478483893893 pounds. 
My hair is no longer blue.

I did very well for the first 3 days--excessive bike riding, normal to below-normal food consumption, no bingeing. And then on the last two days of my trip, I ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate and ate until I felt sick and fat and suicidal. 

Today at work, I planned to only have coffee while I de-bloat, but because I'm a fat greasy hippopotamic mess with no willpower, I've been devouring the peanut putter pretzels and the box of fudge that I brought back from LBI (the fudge that I was hoping everyone else in the office would eat so that I DON'T eat it). My size 0 work trousers are feeling quite snug. 

I had hoped that my nice little trip down the shore would cause a marked decrease in my stress levels. The Stress has been well above normal for a while a now, and I'd really like it to calm the eff down before I have a heart attack, because the constant palpitations are starting to make me light-headed and queasy.

But no. I think I've arrived back to Real Life twice as stressed out as when I left. Let's review:

1.) I can't sleep. This isn't exactly breaking news, but as of late (the last month and a half, or so?) I have been unable to sleep even with the sleeping pills. If I fall asleep, it's a weird half-sleep, and I wake up about every hour. This is with copious amounts of diphenhydramine and doxylamine every night. 

2.) This morning, I was unable to locate my keys. I ended up driving to work with the spare car key and telling Step-Dad to please Please PLEASE NOT lock the door to the house, because I have no house keys. Step-Dad is an epic douche-bag and thus there is a rather large chance that he will lock the house on purpose before he leaves for Boston (which is over 5 hours away) and claim that he forgot that I asked him to leave the door unlocked. Mum and Little Sis are down in Seaside (~90 minutes away). I replaced the locks on all the house doors myself (to keep Step-Bro#1 out), so I know for a fact that the credit-card-unlocking-solution will not work. I really do not want to break the door down, especially since I'm going to be home alone for the next couple days. 

Edit (I wrote this at work): step-dad did indeed leave the door unlocked. And the back door open. Just the screen door was closed. And he left the basement door closed. We have never--in our 9 years in the house--left the basement door closed, because the cats' litter boxes are in the basement. 

The cats were upstairs. 

3.) My car still reeks of death and putrescence. 

4.) Friend's departure for Colorado is only a couple of weeks away. On my last day at her house down the shore, she told me to clear my calendar on July 31st, for her official Farewell Party. And the fact that she's leaving kept coming up in conversation while I was in LBI--since it's now mid-July, we talked a bit about stuff we'd like to plan for the end of the summer and the fall (hiking, canoeing, the annual apple-picking trip, etc.), and then remembered oh yeah, Friend's not going to be here.

:**(

Since my circle of friends is rapidly diminishing (I've culled the herd quite a bit over the last year, purging people with whom I just cannot deal), this is even more depressing. 

5.) My chin has broken out into a mass of zits. I also have an epic rash on my arse from bicycling 75 miles in 3 days. 

The bike:

6.) I have received my first ever negative feedback on eBay because the buyer of a friend's Keurig coffee maker was a moron who apparently preferred being an assmaster over getting a refund. 

7.) I feel too fat to watch Millennium. I'm not sure when this particular neural pathway was forged, but for some reason I just feel too ashamed to subject Millennium to the hugeness that is Mich. Like Frank Black will turn his back on me forever because I'm such a failure. (I think this actually dates back to meeting Lance Henriksen in person.) 

Since Millennium is like my security blanket when I'm feeling unhappy, this is not exactly helping. 

8.) I think I like a boy.

-__-

This never happens. 

Like really; NEVER HAPPENS. Not to this degree, at least--wherein I actually like someone for his personality and his looks and just everything in general (as opposed to a random fixation on a boy and the idea that he might look nice standing next to me). 

But the boy is related to a friend, which could get messy.

-___________-

Also, I haven't developed a crush on anyone in so long that I don't really know what to do about it except for breaking out in a cold sweat.

And seriously WHAT THE FUDGSICLES IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE. I hope they string that guy up in Times Square and cut off his balls and shove them up his arse. 

Ugh.

I need a cigarette. Or five.